


Homecoming

by Elisexyz



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:08:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24376276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisexyz/pseuds/Elisexyz
Summary: “You need to stop giving me such frights, I will start losing my hair!”
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 98





	Homecoming

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Tumblr prompt: [“I got you, it’s okay. it’s okay.” + Geraskier.](https://heytheredeann.tumblr.com/post/619656351310888960/54-geraskier-please)

When Jaskier comes back into the room after his surprisingly successful attempt at reassuring the innkeeper that everything is fine, he finds Geralt in the middle of an attempt at getting up.

“Hey!” he immediately reprimands, his legs pushing him to sprint towards the bed. There’s restless energy still prickling under his skin, since he hasn’t had a _minute_ to collect himself since he was woken up, but at least it comes in handy. “Where do you think you are going?”

Geralt looks about as confused as someone whose blood is all over the floor should be, and Jaskier is quick to take a solid hold of his arm. “Come on, I got you, it’s okay —” he mutters, trying to ease him back down as his heart clenches at the frightened looks that Geralt keeps shooting around the room.

He has already rolled half-way off the bed, and he doesn’t seem too receptive of Jaskier’s attempts at pushing him back, instead blinking furiously as he keeps restlessly looking around.

“What happened?” he growls, his fingers clasping Jaskier’s arm a little too tightly as his eyes eventually land on Jaskier’s shirt, widening in obvious dread when he takes in the sight.

It’s only when he looks down that Jaskier remembers that oh, _right_ , he doesn’t look exactly _presentable_ at the moment. It’s why reassuring the innkeeper was easier said and done, and he regretted not changing into a clean shirt before trying.

“I’m okay, the blood is all yours,” he says, his tone carrying a bit of a hidden accusation. Geralt woke him up in the middle of the night when, somehow having successfully carried himself up the stairs, terrifying the poor innkeeper to death in the process, he ended up collapsing just two steps past the door. It was _not_ a pleasant sound to wake up to.

For all that Jaskier is grateful that he managed to drag himself all the way back to their room, he should be more fucking _careful_. And maybe stop taking contracts on top of each other like an _idiot_.

Geralt considers him. He eventually hums in acknowledgement, finally letting himself lie back down on the bed and adding a muttered ‘ _Good’_ , which drags a bit of a smile out of Jaskier in spite of everything.

“I just _love_ how that is actually reassuring for you,” he comments, pulling the sheets back up, because the night is rather chilly and he is not handing Geralt any shirts when he will probably bleed all over them. “How sweet.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “I’ll heal,” he says, gruffly.

“My heart won’t, though!” Jaskier protests, the emphasis in his tone not even too much of an exaggeration. There are some things that you just _don’t_ get used to. “You need to stop giving me such frights, I will start losing my hair!”

Geralt gives him a thoughtful look for a few moments, squinting at him as if to see him better, then his mouth twitches, as he clearly tries to stifle a laugh.

Jaskier feels a smile pushing to twist his lips as well. “You’re imagining me bald, aren’t you?” he guesses, his tone meant to be a way more annoyed than it is.

The answer he gets is a snort. “It’s terrible,” Geralt comments then, clearly way more amused than you should be.

“How dare you, I bet I’d still look handsome,” he feels the duty to protest, though deep down he _really_ doesn’t wish to find himself having to try and make _that_ work. He loves his hair, thank you very much.

“Hmm.” Geralt sinks a little further into the pillow, closing his eyes. “Of course you would,” he mutters, sleepily enough that the sarcasm is not _that_ evident. Jaskier chooses to believe that the sentiment behind the words is true and that Geralt wouldn’t just leave him to run after some prettier guy or gal if he ever started losing his hair, even less so if that were to happen out of concern for _him_ and his Witcher antics. That would be terribly unfair.

He smiles, fondness washing through him like a wave. “Don’t think we won’t talk about this tomorrow,” he warns, without much fire.

Geralt hums in acknowledgement, keeping his eyes closed.

“Sleep well,” Jaskier says then, softly, bending forward to lay a kiss on his temple and settling back down on his chair, keeping Geralt’s hand between both of his, because he doesn’t seem to mind.

He should probably get up, get changed, maybe pace around for a while until the lingering panic has worn off, but it can wait. He just wants to watch over him for a little while first.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates comments, including: 
> 
>   * Short comments
>   * Long comments
>   * Questions
>   * “<3” as extra kudos
>   * Reader-reader interaction
> 

> 
> If you don’t want a reply, for any reason, feel free to sign your comment with “whisper” and I will appreciate it but not respond!


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